


After the Rain

by jane_with_a_j



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, short and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 02:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_with_a_j/pseuds/jane_with_a_j
Summary: Crowley has been performing little demonic miracles for Aziraphale's benefit since the beginning of time.





	After the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> For the Ineffable Husbands Week, day 2. Prompt: Rain/Storm/Downpour

There was no rainbow, after the first rainstorm, because rainbows hadn't been invented yet. The world still looked beautiful, though, as the storm clouds dissipated and the sun reemerged. The desert before them wasn't much to look at, true, but the Garden behind them glistened and glittered in the sudden sunlight. The plants looked, if anything, better than they had before, as though the water from above had renewed them.

The angel, who at some point during the storm had introduced himself as Aziraphale, lowered his wing. It had been an unexpected kindness, that shelter from the storm. Crawly hadn't been entirely spared from the downpour – his left wing was wet through, as was his robe from about the knees down – but he was mostly dry, and a quick miracle took care of the rest of it.

The angel, on the other hand, was soaked to the skin. It wasn't, at least not entirely, a bad look for him. His sodden robe clung to his body in a way that – well. Crawly filed those thoughts away for another time. They could be a useful reference, one day, what with Lust being slated to be one of the deadly sins and all. Strictly a professional interest. The angel's wings looked rather nice, too. Water was beginning to bead on the white feathers, catching the fresh sunlight like tiny jewels.

His hair, though. There wasn't much to say about his hair. The once-fluffy blond curls were plastered to his head, dripping water down his face and into his eyes. He blinked a few times, then swiped at his forehead with the back of an equally wet hand. He ran the hand through his hair and – oh, Heaven. Now those soggy white curls were sticking up every which way and looked even worse. It was an improvement, in a way, because it was actually kind of adorable.

“Ugh,” said the angel. He flicked the tips of his wings, sending a cascade of tiny droplets raining down behind them. He raised a wet hand and looked at it, then looked down at himself, as if looking for a place to wipe it dry. There was none. Every part of him was drenched.

It seemed not to have occurred to him that he could simply miracle himself dry. Maybe angels weren't supposed to use miracles to help themselves? Crawly couldn't remember there having been a rule about that, before, but between the War and the creation of this new world, maybe the rules had changed. Or maybe this particular angel simply wasn't thinking straight right now. He'd just spent hours standing out in a storm, sheltering a demon from the rain and making small talk with him, so it was entirely possible.

“Let me get that for you,” said Crawly. A quick flick of the wrist, and the angel was dry again. He started, then looked over at Crawly.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, thank you. That was very-” Crawly watched with some amusement as the angel's tongue tripped over the word _kind_.

_He'll spend the rest of the day wondering why I did that,_ Crawly thought. _Fretting over my motives, suspecting that I was up to something, because everyone knows that demons aren't kind. And he'll feel vaguely guilty about it, because angels _are_ kind, or they're supposed to be, and it's not very kind to assume the worst of anyone without evidence._ Messing with an angel's head was proper demonic activity, wasn't it? Had to be. And that was why he'd done it, obviously.

“Don't mention it,” said Crawly. He looked back into the Garden, and then out over the desert. “You going to be stationed on Earth for long?”

“Not sure,” said the angel. “For the foreseeable future, I expect.”

“Well then,” said Crawly. “Perhaps we'll be seeing each other again at some point.” He flexed his wings. “I should be on my way. Big new world to see, lots of trouble to cause.” He flashed the angel a grin. “Pleasure to meet you, Aziraphale.”

And with that, without waiting for the angel's reply, he launched himself from the wall and flew out over the desert. Surely there would be something interesting to explore beyond it. It was a big new world, after all.

But not so big, he hoped, that he wouldn't cross paths with the angel again.


End file.
